


a kiss and a miss

by ORiley42



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Post-Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, first kiss(es), series finale? haven't heard of her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27676109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ORiley42/pseuds/ORiley42
Summary: a tiny, goofy lil destiel saileen endgame fix-it except no plot, we’re just here for laffs + a Gabriel cameo
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 16
Kudos: 47





	a kiss and a miss

**Author's Note:**

> Saw [this post about things that would've been better than the spn finale](https://romeooo.tumblr.com/post/635283880078983168/things-that-would-have-been-a-better-ending-to) and was like ‘this is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard’ and was particularly laid out by one line in the middle and so this crack-y little fic was born… anyway thanks @romeooo for being funnier than 15 years of SPN combined!

The flap of wings was like a wet towel hitting cement.

Sam, Dean, and Eileen spun like tops in the bunker’s kitchen to find Cas struggling to his feet, a smaller figure guffawing behind him.

“Way to stick the landing, bro,” Gabriel slapped Cas on the back, which nearly splayed him onto the ground again. “Doesn’t really matter, I guess, since your wings are gonzo from here on out.”

“Gabriel?” Sam gasped, vaulting to his feet from where their trio had been moping at the table.

_“Cas?”_ Dean said, rather more to the point. (Like it was really a surprise to see Gabe still kicking. For god’s—or, er, Jack’s?—sake, the archangel had more lives than an army of cats).

“Hello, Dean,” Cas smiled. The familiar words ran through Dean’s bones, cool and life-bringing as spring water.

“Courtesy of the new big man—or, ha, well, three year old boy,” Gabriel snickered, “upstairs. He sends his regards. I wanted to send a box of magnums. And the hope that y’all have good soundproofing in this hovel.”

Dean ignored this. “You’re alive?” he murmured, gaze locked on Cas, voice cracked with grief.

“Ugh, Winchesters,” Gabriel rolled his eyes in the full-body way that was his specialty, “No one states the obvious like you do. Anyway, have fun and be safe. Or have fun and don’t be safe, it’s your mortality, and if you break it you buy it. Oh, and it’s good to see you, Sam—looking svelte, as always. Enjoy my sloppy seconds, sister,” Gabriel winked at Eileen before vanishing with a snap.

Eileen, not particularly fazed by angels coming back to life since she’d done the resurrection tango herself, was still sitting nonchalant at the kitchen table. However, at Gabriel’s parting remark, she tossed a _very_ interested glance up at Sam. Sam sputtered, “I don’t—he doesn’t—we never—”

“If you did…” Eileen said with a salacious tilt to her eyebrow, signing slowly so Sam didn’t miss a word, “I wouldn’t be mad.”

Meanwhile, Dean and Cas only had eyes for each other.

“I believe there was something left undone,” Cas said, taking a tentative step forward, “something important.”

Dean took a half-step of his own, working up the courage to meet him in the middle.

Then, Cas walked straight into Sam’s arms, kissing him on the mouth without a moment’s notice.

Sam was frozen—comically so. Eyes wide, arms flung out at his sides like someone had just stuck a live wire up his ass.

Cas stepped back. He surveyed the faces of Sam (confused beyond the capacity of human expression,) Eileen (mouth fallen open and eyes gleeful), and Dean (the word to describe his countenance won’t be invented for at least three millennia).

“I…I was told that would be funny,” Cas explained haltingly.

Because no one in the room had access to angel radio, no one heard a certain archangel laughing his divine ass off.

The stillness of all the people around him only highlighted Cas’ uncharacteristic fidgeting. “I was encouraged to use humor to soften the impact of my return. Gabriel, he…” Cas squinted, and the penny drop (taking the trickster’s advice in matters of the heart? Now that really was Winchester-dumb!) was like a thunderclap. “Well. I believe I was…misinformed, on both counts.”

Eileen was the first to break. She began to laugh so hard she did, actually, fall off her stool.

“I’m gonna kill Gabriel,” Dean announced, “I know—I know that no one’s _actually_ managed to do that yet, but I’m gonna. I’m gonna fuckin’ find a _way_ …”

“Um, maybe, maybe we focus on the good news?” Sam finally spoke, instinctively trying to curb his brother’s homicidal rage. “Cas is back! Yay?”

“Yay,” Dean repeated, deadpan, but that soppy, dopey, love-and-flowers expression was creeping back onto his face.

Cas—who’d put a bit of distance between himself and both Winchesters—dared to sidle closer to Dean. “Since my entrée into physical comedy was, er, less than successful, perhaps a more earnest approach is required.” Cas reached out to cradle Dean’s cheek with one hand, thumb catching against the grain of Dean’s proto-grief-beard. Dean leaned into the touch, eyes squeezed shut.

“I love you, Dean,” Cas declared, “and nothing can change that. But if you—”

“I fucking love you too, you dumb sack of shit,” Dean interrupted. His left hand tentatively curled around Cas’ waist, the right came up to ghost along the line of his jaw.

Sam, still a bit pale, suggested to Eileen, “Maybe we should, uh, leave them to it…”

“No way,” Eileen signed fervently before clamping both hands on Sam’s arm, just in case he really tried to duck out of this show-of-a-lifetime early.

Dean’s thumb traced along Cas’ lower lip. Cas trembled at the touch, his new need for oxygen playing havoc with his usual cool composure.

Eileen had the right idea, Sam decided. After all, he’d been the one and only member of the Dean/Cas will-they-won’t-they betting pool for more than a decade, and damned if he wasn’t going to see this shitshow through to the end.

Dean started to lean in, head tilting to one side, Cas moving to match…

“Wait!” Dean yelled, making everyone jump, “I can’t fucking kiss you!”

Cas looked devastated. “Nooooo….” Eileen whispered while Sam tried not to bite his nails. Goddammit Dean, he thought, you’re so close to the finish line…

“I can’t kiss you,” Dean repeated, “because you just kissed my _brother!_ You’ve got, you’ve got _Sam germs_.”

“I beg your pardon,” Cas blinked.

Dean was too busy turning tomato-red with fury to explain.

Castiel turned to his and Dean’s audience, blue eyes seeking answers. “Eileen, I was not under the impression that Sam was infected with any specific microbes, are you aware of this condition…?”

If Eileen had not been clinging to Sam for dear life, she probably would’ve ended up on the floor again. While she continued to shake with laughter, Sam bravely attempted to answer, “It, uh, it’s just an expression, Cas. I guess. Um…no, no microbes. Here. We’re good.”

“That’s fortunate,” Cas nodded gravely, “because as Gabriel noted, without my grace I no longer have the power to heal any of you.”

Dean shouted. Not any particular thing, just a noise of pure frustration.

“Oh my god,” Sam whispered.

Dean dove across the kitchen’s metal island, groping for something with both hands. After a series of crashes and a ferocious bout of swearing, he emerged victorious with a dishcloth, brandishing it in Castiel’s direction.

Cas tried to back away, but he didn’t have a chance. Dean had him in a headlock, dragging the rag across Cas’ mouth like he was a naughty infant with peas on his face before Cas could mount a defense. “Good enough,” Dean declared, inspecting his work (his work mainly being: an annoyed ex-angel). He flung the dishcloth over his shoulder, then threw his arms around Cas’ neck and kissed him for all he was worth.

The dishcloth sailed with uncanny accuracy directly into Sam’s face. (Again, arch-angelic-interference may be suspected.) Eileen was tearing up, clutching her sides as Sam blinked in sodden dumbfoundment.

Dean had Cas pressed up against the island, hands roaming in his hair, along his chest, down his back and—oh, that was lower than his back. Sam had seen enough R-rated movies censored for television to know when he should take a commercial break.

“Alright, time to go,” Sam insisted. Eileen agreed, though not without a touch of reluctance.

The more circumspect pair of lovers had nearly absented themselves from the scene of the crime, when Eileen stuck her head back in the room to shout, “Seriously, congrats you two!”

Sam carried her bodily off, Eileen once again laughing uproariously. There was a distant, “thank you!” from Castiel before the bunker’s residents collectively decided that maybe talking was overrated.

**Author's Note:**

> obvi, the specific line from the inspiring-post was “cas comes back but kisses sam instead” – when I tell you I was almost hysterical with laughter, know that I’m not kidding
> 
> Anyway my brain is oatmeal but I hope y’all enjoyed this!!! If you have a sec, plz validate this nonsense with a comment <3


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